Every Word Wants To Be

Anything That Endures Over Time Sacrifices Its Ability To Make An Impression.

Have We Not Huddled In Bunkers, While Some Premonition Of Tomorrow Hung In The Air And A Comrade Started Singing? Oh, It Felt So Melancholy! And It Was Kitsch.

Don't You Know That Every Perfect Life Would Be The End Of Art?

An Impractical Man--which He Not Only Seems To Be, But Really Is--will Always Be Unreliable And Unpredictable In His Dealings With Others. He Will Engage In Actions That Mean Something Else To Him Than To Others, But He Is At Peace With Himself About Everything As Long As He Can Make It All Come Together In A Fine Idea.

Wordsworth's Particular Grace, His Charisma, As Theologians Say, Has Been Granted In Equal Measure To So Very Few Men Since Time Was--to Plato And Who Else? The Crucial Thing Is Never What We Do, But Always What We Do Right After That. What Matters Is Always The Next Step!